


Blue Bird On The Sill

by Tesmi



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dirkjohn is main ship, F/F, F/M, It is not recommended anyone with a sense of humor read this, M/M, Other ships may occure, Poor attempts at humor, There will be a lot of butt touching pinkie promise, no SBurb AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-11-23 20:25:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tesmi/pseuds/Tesmi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College is hard. John Egbert has enough on his plate without having to deal with the unwelcome visitor that comes to stay at his dorm. Being roommates with Dave Strider is hard enough, but John didn't sign up to have to deal with his twin brother Dirk as well. What starts out as a hate relationship quickly turns into a game of prankster gambit and one-upmanship between two incredibly twitterpated idiots. </p><p>Needless to say, this story and the characters about which it tells are a complete and total clusterfuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You are JOHN EGBERT. You are a junior in college. You are majoring in Sciences, hoping to someday become a school teacher. You are three parts dork, one part party king, and one part cold hard work ethic. You know this all to be true, whatever anyone might tell you to the contrary. Your hobbies include pranking, failing miserably at social endeavors, and watching movies while totally not crying like a little girl. 

You have slimly survived the long, laborious years of life known as puberty, ducked your head through the arduous stretch of High School, and have been rewarded by life with your party years in College. You can safely say to anyone who ever said no one can enjoy college obviously has never been there.

What will you do?

==>John: Have the best day ever. 

You can not do this. The hopes this day has had of being a good one ended when you were forced to go to class without your morning coffee. Going without your daily morning fix is like sending you into a battle field without any prepping before hand. You might have a sword in one hand but you're still no match for the knocking elbows and the loud voices that all contribute to the headache inducing course of the day. The campus is not a safe place for nursing any type of mental pain, although many people try- coming in with sunken eyes and industrial sized bottles filled with homemade hangover remedies. You couldn't vogue for how well they worked. You've only done this once or twice- and that was enough times for you. 

Your roommate is less than sympathetic of your plight. Dave Strider is a self renowned ironic god, infamous both for this artistic talent and mastered poker face, as well as his habit of falling into long winded metaphors that usually contradicted themselves more than once. He majors in music, though you always told him he would be better of getting a degree in douchebaggery. He's a careless idiot sometimes, with a record for doing the most unorthodox and hilarious stunts, and a martyr of social fame from high school. 

He is also your best friend.

A best friend who didn't bother to wake you up when you forgot to set your fuzzy alarm clock (Somewhat impractical because the fur deafened the sound, but it played Party Rock and you love that song). A best friend who was eating the last strawberry poptart that you had called dibs on when you came into the kitchen, a flurry in your rush to head out the door. A best friend who comments on your spectacular lack of pants, to which you graciously thank his astute observation with a flip of your middle finger, dashing to your room and back out again in a matter of minutes. 

You were up until the witching hours last night working on a paper for your Early British Literature class, and you're basically asleep on your feet. People brush past you in the hall and you almost smack into Terezi Pyrope heading to your class. She tells you to watch it and whacks with your shin with her cane, and then walks away cackling while you hobble in the opposite direction. 

As if this wasn't bad enough, you fell asleep in the middle of a lecture first thing, and completely missed the notes. Luckily, Karkat Vantas, childhood friend and 'THE HIGHER POWER THAT KEEPS YOU FUCKERS FROM FAILING MISERABLY AT EVERYTHING YOU DO IN YOUR OWN STUPIDITY', offers to lend you his. He's got a self smug smirk on his face when he hands you his notebook. You reluctantly take them with promises to return them later. 

You managed to make it through the rest of the day relatively well. Your spirits, however, are still pretty low by the time you have to go to work. It must show on your face as you pull on your apron, because Vriska Serket, fellow employee and ex-girlfriend, gives you a look over her glasses. 

“Awwwwwwww, poor baby! Do you need a nappy wappy?” 

You just grimace at her and get to work, too tired to think of a response that isn't 'no shut up your face'. Luckily, your shift today is at a time during the day with little traffic, so you don't have to overexert yourself. 

The Brew Ha Ha is a small coffee spot, hidden in the shadow of the campus, easily in walking distance. It's undersized, a child among the looming buildings of the city, but it's got a nice feel to it. The interior decorator (Eridan Ampora, who was about as nice to be around as a dying rat but damn did he know design) had made it both suitable for a quite place to work and a place of social gathering. As a result you get many regulars from your school, which is, for the most part, nice. It allows you to keep up on gossip, and lets you meet people you might normally not see. You enjoy working here, despite constantly having to get in between spats that break out when your fellow employees tempers flare. Karkat and Vriska are either muttering together with sardonic jabs and small laughs at the customers, or rearing tooth and nail at each other's throats. It gets tiring, and usually you have boundless energy to waste, but today you do not, so you simple stay out of their way. 

A few of said regulars give you sympathetic little smiles when they see how sluggishly you move around behind the counter. You don't have the heart not to acknowledge these, so you smile back even though it hurts a little. 

You only have to work for a little bit before the shop begins to quiet down, and you take your break. Ducking into the back, you lean against the counter and poor yourself a cup of brew, sipping at it with the fervor of an addict. You think you should be a little concerned how dependent on coffee you are, but you honestly can't bring yourself to care right now. There's a gentle little buzzing sensation against your thigh. You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone

The first thing that comes to mind is that there must be some type of emergency. The screen of your phone is flooded with waves of rich crimson text- your first clue. You square your shoulders and take a breath, bracing yourself. This could be monumental. Dave could have ordered a pizza that needed to be picked up asap, or he could have suffered another brutal assault attempt from his vocals teacher, who was a 'crotchety old man who's jelly of this newbies mad skills and can't figure out how to deal with this salacious mixture of arousal and envy'. Or, the worst of all- you shudder to even think it- they could be out of apple juice. Oh god, you hope not. You will not hear an end to the bitching for days to come if you are. 

As it turns out, it isn't any of these. 

– turntechGodhead [TG] started pestering ghostyTrickster [GT] –

TG: john  
TG: john help  
TG: john this is urgent  
TG: sound the alarms call in the a team shit is getting drastic up in this other  
TG: even the fbi was like nah man this shit is too much for us we dont get paid enough to handle problems this big  
TG: egbert you little shit i could have broken a leg or be on fire or falling down a flight of stairs or falling down a flight of stairs while on fire with a broken leg  
TG: yes i know youre amazed and shocked at my ability to text while tumbling head first right to the first floor  
TG: i could be lying on the ground with my head split open bleeding scarlet all over the place within an inch of my life and here you are just ignoring your messages  
TG: the reapers looming over me john i can hear god calling me back to the mother lands  
TG: morgan freeman is that you  
TG: im too young to go to hell im going to burn so bad you have no fucking clue  
TG: theres a reason i moved away from texas okay it was not so that my bffltd could ignore me in my time of need wtf kind of friend are you  
TG: im too young and pretty to die  
TG: egbert  
TG: egbert im going to piss on everything you love  
GT: say hi to satan for me dave!  
TG: egbert this is no time for your sass  
: but i will tell him you said yo and hope hes doing well  
GT: okay, so what's the problem?  
GT: make it quick, i'm at work right now.  
TG: oh please  
TG: like you don't spend your shifts sucking on used coffee filters and ogling serkets tits  
GT: that's what i get paid for, obviously.  
TG: ngl id love to get paid to do that  
TG: nsm the coffee part because coffee ew gross  
TG: but serkets rack aint bad for a flat chick  
GT: dave, that's my ex, remember?  
TG: yeah yeah i know what a big venomous life sucking succubus she is i said i like her tits not i want to ask her out chill bro but thanks for worrying about me  
GT: dave, i have to go now.  
TG: no wait  
TG: okay i srs need your help im freaking out here  
GT: okay, what's the issue?  
TG: my brother is coming  
GT: your brother??  
TG: yes john  
TG: thank you for typing that back to me  
GT: what brother?  
TG: you know the one who i was born within a day of  
TG: like srs it was at the fucking cusp but does that stop him from reminding me hes 2 hours earlier no it does fucking not  
TG: goddamn asshole  
GT: oh yeah. that rotten slimy bastard.  
TG: ikr  
TG: anyways hes coming to stay with me for a while  
GT: woah, what? you mean at our dorm?  
TG: yeh  
GT: why didn't you tell me this before??  
TG: well soz i just found out today  
TG: he sprang it on me like a trap springing on a hare that wily turtle trying to outfox his competition  
TG: only im the turtle and he sets the trap just to ensure he can get his greasy slimy rabbity paws on the first place prize in some sick twisted version of one upmanship  
GT: i'm really glad you finally got over your petty jealousy.  
TG: stfu  
TG: nyway i have no idea when hes showing up so dont be surprised if you walk into the apartment and feel your hopes and dreams and any sense of willpower being slowly sucked out of your eyes by the satanic force of pure calculated evil that is my brothers presence  
GT: okay!  
GT: i really have to go now dave.  
TG: may the force be with you young patowan

=== >John: Face the beast. 

Why do you have to make it sound so ominous? You have a high suspicion that Dave is just over reacting to this entire thing. In fact, you almost know for sure he is. You are 99.5% positive this is one of Dave's melodramatic freak outs. You've seen enough to know that whatever started them is not nearly as bad as he thinks it is going to be. 

Still, you can't help but be a little peeved off about the entire thing. Dave has made an occupational hazard of springing things on you without warning. As much you (bro)love the guy, sometimes you literally want to strangle him for all the awkward positions he's placed you in over the years. 

Normally, you might not mind having someone come to stay over. In fact, you might be happy. Dave's family is always fun to be around, so far removed from the life you knew as a kid. Your childhood smelled like shaving cream and shoe polish, while his reeked of Chinese food and puppet stuffing and latex. You always chose not the question the third. Needless to say, growing up under the supervision of glassy blue eyes on a looming, wooden face differentiated Dave from you in ways that are more than notable. It makes life with him both a challenge and an adventure. 

You had only gone over to his apartment a few times growing up. The distance had made it hard for visiting- Texas was not exactly around the corner. The few times you had been over you remember walking in to a floor that was barely visible underneath the discarded pizza boxes, phallic shaped puppets and shitty swords. In fact, these things were in such amount that you remember very little else. However, you do remember with a fondness the frequent quarrels that broke out between Dave and his older brother. Bro was almost never around when you were there. At least, you never saw him, not even when you were looking. It always came as a shock when he would spring out of the shadows, katana coming down in an arch with a swishing split of the air. Dave's was out before you could blink, and you would spend the rest of the afternoon watching cartoons on the couch until Dave came stumbling back in looking like he had just been hit by a Volkswagen. 

Dirk was a different story. Despite the fact it seemed like he never left the apartment, you had only seen him a few times. He was around the same height as Dave, with a slightly different hair style, and shades that matched their guardian’s. He didn't slouch as much as Dave, and his sense of humor seemed generally less forward, although just as sarcastic and wordy. They were fraternal twins as far as you're aware, because the physical differences were clear and there. 

Dave's twin was a genius. Not a self proclaimed, head-of-the-class genius, but genuinely intelligent. He'd graduated high school at the age of 15 and had received an early exception to one of the best robotics school in the country. You'd been there to assuage Dave's feelings of belittlement when everyone turned to fawning over his brother. As far as you know he had graduated College already, and may or may not have already gotten a master's degree. That was about all you could coax out of Dave, and all you really cared to know. 

Nevertheless, you suppose that the two of you will get along fine. You just wish Dave would have told you first. You'd like to meet a visitor with smiles, but today you'll be greeting him with a tired yawn and bags under your eyes. 

Vriska tells you to get along home an hour or so later. You're thankful for her gracious offer to close up the shop for you, and you choose not to argue, stripping off your apron. There's a longer shift tomorrow but you don't have class, so you suppose you can always do something to make it up to her anyways. Vriska assures you it's a fine with a fang flashing grin, seeing you out into the darkening sky. 

The walk back to your apartment seems longer than it has too. At this point, you aren't even sure why you're as tired as you are. You resolve to sleep in way past 9 tomorrow- but then decide that's probably not a good idea, you'll feel like you wasted some of your day and you do have a lot of homework to do. It's a little chilly outside, the wind a sharp sting on the exposed sides of her face, and you're grateful when you finally make it back to your building. 

The dorm is oddly silent tonight. Normally, it's alive with the voices of excited students, celebrating the completion of homework or a particularly hard test. You have to be careful you don't fall victims to pranks in these halls- although to be fair most of the time it is you who initiates them- but it's different. It unsettles you. 

Reaching your door you rummage through your pockets for the key. Of course, it isn't there. You curse the gods of vexations and bend down to get the spare key you keep hidden under your doormat. To your surprise, it isn't there. This is more than a bit concerning, especially when the door knob won't comply why you twist it. The door is locked and your spare is gone. Rubbing the back of your neck you groan, and start searching for your phone, ready to text Dave and tell him to get over here pronto. 

The door creeks open before you can. The surprise must be clear on your face when you look up, shoving your hands into your pockets, thinking that maybe if it's a robber you can do that pretend gun thingy in your coat, but it isn't. 

He's taller than you remember. He towers you by a good four or five inches, just as Dave does. You think, at least, Dave might be a bit taller than he is, but he's more filled out about the shoulders, and just sort of broader in general, putting to shame Dave's spindly limbs and bean pole body. The first thing you notice is his dark visors, that are square shaped and look like they could cut through glass if you swung them just the right way. Perhaps that is the point of them, to aid the look of intimidation he's sporting, and sporting well. There's something about the hard set of his jaw and the even line of his brow that unnerves you. You consider yourself an ace at cracking the legendary Strider poker face. 

You can not, for the life of you, tell what he is thinking. 

So when he quirks a brow at you and breaks you out of your observation you startle like a deer caught in the headlights. A silence passes between you where he seems to be waiting for you to speak. You clear your throat and dislodge your teeth from your bottom lip, which you realize you must have been worrying at. 

“Uh, hi, I didn't think you'd-”

“Who are you?” 

He cuts you off in mid sentence. The question takes you by surprise because, well, he has seen you before, spoken to you before, and you're more than a little sure he was there when you and your father came to pick up Dave for a campus tour a few years ago. 

“John? We've met before. And I kind of live here?” 

He gives a tilt of his head and you suppose he must be looking you over from behind his shades. You feel naked under the look of his scrutiny and clear your throat. His voice is dead pan when he speaks again. 

“John? I don't think I know a John. Dave neglected to mention a room mate. Hmm.. John. No, not ringing any bells here.” 

“What?” You thrill indignantly, flaring up. You know he knows who you are, in fact the subtle smugness hedging his tone tells you as much. “No, of course you know who I am. I'm really tired, alright, can you just let me in?” 

After some pondering and 'hmms' he tells you no, he can't, and shuts the door in your face. 

 

===>John: Throw a fit and cry like a baby. 

You aren't going to do that! You're considering it, but that would just let that asshole win! You do not plan on letting him win! Instead you choose to stare, dumbfounded, at the door, searching for some kind of word to describe how you're feeling. The word you come up with is something close to “ghdunsgujf!” and you think you hear a snicker from inside your apartment. But that very well just might be your imagination turning on you. 

Instead you rap your knuckles on the door several times, waiting until you hear the crack of the wood as it opens. He greets you with the same look as before, which is to say no look at all, pointedly calm and expressionless. That just pisses you off now, so you jab a finger at him and tell him to move. 

“Look, kid, I don't have any money to buy your girlscout cookies. Come back with some playgirl and we'll talk.” 

You sputter. 

“I don't have time to listen to you preach religious nonsense at me either, and quite frankly this is school property and you're currently loitering. You might want to skedaddle before I call the cops.” 

With that, he closes the door on you once again. 

==> John: Kick the door down.

What the fuck kind of command is that? Do you look like you have the strength to go kicking down doors? You do not, despite how manly and athletic you might appear to the untrained eye, have the ability to kick down doors. 

That does not stop you from trying and now you are standing, locked out of your own dorm, with a swelling foot and a mouth full of profanities. 

You just wanted to take a fucking nap. 

You're just about to starting calling the door quite a few fowl names your father would not approve of you using, when you hear a cough behind you. Dave has come just in time to be your knight in black denim jeans. 

Dave just gives you a look, the very same brow quirk that just made your stomach boil. You snap at him by mistake, insisting how his dumb brother won't let you into your own god damn dorm room. His only response is a shake of his head. Dave, unlike Dirk, does not have the decency to pretend that this is not incredibly embarrassing on your part.

“Chill out and move,” he orders you, and you step aside. Of course Dave has his key- Dave probably had a great fucking day started out with a magical energy kick from _your_ poptart. He opens the door and steps inside. You follow.

“Sup.” 

Dirk is lounging across your couch. He leans his arm over the back and waves at the two of you as you enter. It's hard to tell who seems more disgruntled at his presence; you with a glare that could burn a hole through crystal, or Dave with an awkward stance about him, like he's trying to figure out how to act. He greets Dirk with a responding 'yo' and slumps off to his room before you can tattle on him. 

Dirk's turned back to the magazine he is idly flipping through when you march over to the front of the couch. You kind of wish he wasn't bigger than you, otherwise you might slug him across the face. 

Dirk titles his head to look up at you, not giving you a look at his eyes over his shades. You're used to this, as Dave does it too. You swallow the knot that has spontaneously lodged itself in your throat. Everything about this guy is currently pissing you off. From the way he refuses to act as if he enjoys getting a rise from you, to how he's got his big black boots propped up on your furniture, probably tracking dirt all over the place. 

“Oh, hey Egbert.” 

You recoil like he's hit you. You'd almost forgotten that he did, in fact, know who you were, despite having treated you like a stray. 

“Dude, the hell is wrong with you? You can't just lock me out of my own place!” 

He graces you with a dry, bored smile, that lifts only one side of his lip. 

“Sorry. Must have forgotten who you were. Looks a bit like you've gotten shorter.”

You remember only a little bit about Dave's brother. When you had met when you were younger, and he had seemed quiet and withdrawn, paying more attention to his robots than to people. At the time he hadn't seemed so bad. 

Now you realize too late that Dirk Strider is the most insufferable asshole you have ever had the displeasure to meet. 

Maybe it's just the caffeine withdrawal talking, but you honestly want to rip out your eyes just to have something to throw at him. You see a tiny smirk on his face as you walk away and you think he knows that. 

It's an entirely twisted force of fate when you ask the question; 'Could this get any worse'? Without a wooden surface to knock on in sight. 

You huff and puff internally, pushing past Dave as he comes out of your room. Your bed as never looked more welcoming as you flop down on top of it. There's no point in wasting the energy trying to crawl under the covers, or change into your pajamas, so you don't. You try not to think about how, in the ten minutes of meeting, Dirk Strider has already managed to get under your skin. 

It takes you much longer than it should to fall asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter took so long and it's shorter than the first! Hopefully it's still good though :'D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer that i've never actually seen groundhogs day

GG: sooooooo  
GG: let me get this straight  
GG: daves brother is staying with you and dave and you dont like him?  
GT: it's not that i don't LIKE him.   
GT: i hate his presence and everything that he represents.   
GG: sooo basically youve got a middle school crush on him  
GG: have you pulled his pig tails and called him a cow yet? :P  
GT: hahahahahahaha.  
GT: hahahahahahahahahahaha.  
GT: hahahaha.  
GT: ha.  
GT: oh man jade, you are just SO FUNNY i am over here just rofling!  
GT: my butt is literally having an intimate experience with the floor is HOW MUCH I AM JUST LAUGHING  THAT ASS RIGHT OFF MY BODY, JADE.   
GG: okay jesus calm down it was just a joke john   
GT: sorry.   
GT: he really ruffles my feathers!  
GG: rustles your jimmies?  
GT: boils my water!  
GG: stings like a bullet to the face   
GT: everything turns to gun metaphors with you.   
GG: kind of like every time someone brings up space you make a starwars reference  
GT: that is not true.  
GT: sometimes i make a toy story reference.  
GG: to stupidity and beyond  
GT: this is not the topic i pestered you to talk about jade.  
GG: okay then john lets get back to the point here   
GG: why do you dislike dirk so much?   
GG: he seemed nice the couple of times i talked to him  
GT: you've talked to him before?  
GG: yup!  
GG: he interrupted me and dave once when we were on a webcam call during that time when we dated for  like five seconds and gave me his handle  
GG: we only talked a little bit and for a little while  
GG: hes kind of awkward and clingy but no more than dave I guess   
GT: yeah well what i've seen of him so far is mostly just douche city.   
GG: a person can not be a city john  
GG: a person can only be a person  
GT: yeah okay i'm going to go talk to rose now.  
GG: im just kidding   
GG: why dont you just try to get to know him?   
GT: you can't 'just get to know' dirk.   
GT: it's like trying to become friends with a shark.  
GT: you may think they are being friendly when they circle you like that, but really, they aren't. they're just  waiting till your guard is dropped to ambush and kill you.  
GG: wow  
GT: I know.   
GT: anyways, he's not very respondent when i try to talk to him. he like, goes out of his way not to talk to  me. or when he does it's something that he knows will get on my nerves.   
GT: he spends a lot of time in his room and i think he doesn't spend every night here but i don't actually  know where he goes when he leaves.   
GT: i just don't know what his deal is.  
GG: shrug  
GG: i have to go now  
GG: but i really think you should just give him a chance john!!!! he may just be nervous around you or  something :)  
GG: and try not to spill his apple juice during recess girls dont like that   
GT: i hate you.  
GG: love you too lil bro 

==> Be Dirk Strider. Tell us what your deal is. 

You want to BE Dirk Strider? One does not simply be Dirk Strider. You need years of experience and a ton of sheer bro-grit in order to even begin to be Dirk Strider. I think you need to settle down there, broski. 

Be Dirk Strider. Bitch, please. 

==> Be John Egbert. 

Yeah, okay. If you insist. 

You are now John. It's been about three days or so since you had that last conversation with your sister, Jade. You suppose she was trying to help you that entire time, but you can't help but think her suggestions to try to 'make friends' and 'be civil' with Dirk were just mocking jabs at you. You know for a fact she is too smart to be thinking dumb things like that. 

Today is one of your days where you don't have classes and managed to get out of a shift at work. The result is that you're stuck around the dorm in sweats with nothing to do. You consider studying, or perhaps working on your keyboard, or maybe hitting the gym (both you have Dave have memberships, but he uses his to stare at hot men and women in tight clothing, and you use yours to- well okay, you don't really use yours for anything. In fact you aren't entirely sure why you have it.). 

You consider these productive alternatives to curling up on your couch with popcorn to abuse netflix, and then quickly stop considering. 

Tonight you're feeling a bit restless, however. Watching movies alone is never as fun as watching movies with other people. When you were a kid, you used to watch movies all the time with your father. That was how the two of you bounded, how you came to discover your gifted eye for picking out the most tasteful film titles. Tonight you are watching Scott Pilgrim. You are so totally in lesbian with this movie. 

But like you said, you do feel a little bored. Lonely. It's been a while since Dave and you have had schedules that didn't over lap. The new semester had prohibited the two of you from having nearly any time to hang, like you usually might, and it's putting you just shy of the line of being socially deprived. Now, with Dirk around, what little time you DO find Dave not emerged in his study or working or making music in his room, he is arguing with Dirk over something mundane. Sometimes you even catch the two of them smirking at each other, which you knew, to a Strider, was basically the same as laughing hysterically and clapping each other on the back. You get this little gross feeling in your gut when you see this, and when they don't invite you to join in. 

Speaking of Dave making music in his room, that's where he happens to be tonight, when you finally pry yourself off the couch to go in search of him. He's sitting at his laptop desk with headphones around his neck when you walk in, slender fingers tapping away at the computer. From what little you can see of the screen over his shoulder, you assume he's putting together some beats, or something. You know next to nothing about dubstep or whatever, something like that, despite how many long rambling tangents Dave has gone off on when you mistakenly dared to ask. Normally you tuned him out (a skill which you had perfected over the years) so you were left with very little knowledge on how it all actually worked, let alone the correct terminology.

“Daaaave.” You whine, in an attempt to get his attention. It's a moment or two before he does anything, so you go over and rest your chin on top of his head in the way you know he hates. “Daaaave.” 

Dave finally swats you away, swiveling in his chair to look at you. He's wearing only a wife beater and boxers, because Dave doesn't really understand the need for clothing, and this is his usual state of being when he holes himself up in his room and gets immersed in the beats. It took forever to convince him that walking around naked was not an okay thing to do when you had a roommate, and the two of you had compromised on 'boxer only thursday', which you guess you're okay with participating in. 

Except when Dirk had found out about it and decided that boxers could be worn on any part of the body, not just the pelvis. You had spent that night in your room, no matter how many times Dave had banged on the door and told you to 'stop being a big baby who wets the bed and cries over care bears.' You think he might have been a little drunk. 

Anyways. 

Dave gave you an unimpressed look. 

“What's up, bro?” 

“Come watch Scott Pilgrim with me.” You take a seat on the bed, kicking your legs a bit. You know for a fact Dave likes Scott Pilgrim, so hopefully you can lure him out of your room with promises of a movie he actually enjoys. But Dave just snorts at you, turning back to his computer. 

“Sorry man, but I can't. I'm going out tonight.” 

“Out?” 

“Yeah.” He drawls back to you, slow on purpose to respond. “Got a hot date.” 

“Ha,” you laugh before you can help yourself, and Dave gives you the middle finger. You grin at his back apologetically. “With who? That computer guy again?” 

“Yeah. So I guess it ain't really so much of a 'date' as more of 'night foolin' around and poking fun at each other's self depreciating habits'. Wish me happy fucking, Egbert.”  
“I'm not going to wish you-” you cut yourself off with a laugh as Dave groans. He must of fucked something up on the computer, because his attention is suddenly much less geared towards you. You take the hint and sneak out of the bedroom, heading back to your little spot on the couch. With some cursing and loud crashes from your room, Dave leaves about half an hour later, pulling on his coat as he grabs his keys and heads out the door. You don't bother saying goodbye because you've got a spoon full of cookie dough in your mouth. 

Fuck you, don't you dare judge. Cookie dough is the shit. 

You get through to the end of Scott Pilgrim in relatively good shape, but by the end of it you really are starting to get pretty bored. You miss the days when you and Dave used to sit around and watch movies together. Dave would always make commentary that, though you pretended to be annoyed by, always managed to make you laugh. Sometimes the two of you would even turn down the volume and make up lines for the actors yourselves. You liked to believe that the scripts the two of you came up with were usually better than the actual movies. 

The slam of the door catches you by surprise. You glance over the edge of the couch, quickly putting your cookie dough down. Dirk is locking the door behind him, a motorcycle helmet under his arm. He catches your gaze as he turns around again, and pauses for all of a second. 

“Sup.” 

“Hey.” 

“Storing up for winter?” He asks flatly, gesturing to your assortment of movie-marathon foods. You just didn't hide the cookie dough well enough. 

You grunt in response and turn back to the TV, trying to ignore him as he thunders around the kitchen. Dirk is capable of being just as quiet and sneaky as Dave, if not a little more enigmatic of character simply because his certain mannerisms are still so novel- so you know for a fact he is just being loud on purpose. You drown your disdain with diet pepsi and turn up the volume. He drops a row of metal pans on the floor. 

“Woops.” 

Your only response is to snort. After a few minutes you think he must have gone back to his room, so you focus on tv as the opening screen of Groundhog Day comes up. Dirk takes you by surprise as he slides down over the top of the couch into the seat at the opposite end, keeping one arm over the back, a can of orange crush in hand. He's wearing those ridiculous leather gloves that you can only assume are sewn into his flesh. 

“What are we watching?” 

Despite yourself you turn to stare at him, though he keeps his gaze on the screen. With those glasses on his face it's impossible to see his eyes. You idly wonder if he's ever fallen asleep with them and poked himself on the sharp edges. By 'wonder' you mean you sort of hope. 

“Groundhog day.” You say back at last, turning to look at the screen again. This is exceptionally unsual behavior for Dirk. Usually, at this point, we would have retired to you and Dave's room, and stayed there till one of you decided to go to bed and kicked him out. (Normally you went to bed first. Dirk didn't give you a hard time about that, normally, at least, though he did mock your early sleeping habits. Since your dorm was only meant for two people you didn't have a guest room- he'd been using the couch.) 

“Sounds kind of lame. What's it about?” 

“You've never seen Groundhog Day?”

The bewilderment must be clear in your tone, because he let's out a gruff laugh, pulling open the soda tab can with his teeth. 

“Nah. My taste in movies is more refined. They offered me a critique job once, actually. Because my tastes are simply the best.” 

You roll your eyes as hard as you can and bet he can physically feel it, because a smirk quirks the corner of his lip. 

“Refined as in what?” 

“Movies of the horror persuasion.” 

“That's not refined.” 

“Depends who you're asking. So what's it about?” 

Well, this is the most conversation the two of you have had since he got here. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you try to think of how to describe the amazing religious experience that is Groundhog Day to a nonbeliever. You put on your minister collar and robes because you're about to go full preach on this guy. He'll be repenting for his poor cinematic taste by the time you are done. 

“Well... Billy Murray plays this misanthrope reporter, who has to do this newscast on groundhog's day. And there's this lady who's on his news team, who's played by Andie Mcdowell. And he kind of likes her at first, I guess, before the 2nd? But then he keeps waking up on the 2nd over and over again in like this time loop thing. And every time he wakes up again, he learns a little bit more about her. But of course she doesn't realize that the time lope is happening, he's the only one who does. And he like, commits suicide a couple of times, but they never actually break the time loop or anything. He like drives off a cliff, and has a toaster in the bath and stuff. He just keeps waking up. He robbed a bank once just cus he could. 

And he's kind a jerk but she likes him anyways- Mcdowell I mean- and part of the whole point of the movie is so that he can become a good person and stuff and not be such a butt and she can start to like him, sincerely. So he starts becoming a better person and stuff and they do it a bunch of times but they can't get it RIGHT until the very end, but I won't tell you how. So basically yeah. That's what it's about.”

Dirk's got this weird look on his face by the time you're done, and you realize you've started using your hands and becoming way too animated while you were talking. You stare at eachother for a few moments before he shakes his head and turns back to the tv. But you think he might look...impressed? Amused? You aren't entirely sure.

“I see.” 

You snort and get to your feet, going over to the kitchen. Dirk didn't have the courtesy to pick up any of the mess he made when he was banging around. You're feeling a little vindictive so you decide to leave it for Dave to pick up- after all, he is the reason you're stuck with his brother in the first place. His brother who's got hair that kind of reminds you of Sonic the Hedgehog. Hehe. Maybe you'll start calling him that. 

You go over to the fridge to open it up and are immediately greeted with colorful felt buttocks spilling out around your feet. The smuppets tumble from seemingly ever orifice of your already stuffed fridge, and you can't help but wonder how the fuck they all fit. 

“Dude!” 

Dirk looks over the back of the couch at you. He shrugs his shoulders and turns back to the screen. The smuppets regard you with blank, staring white eyes. Holy shit, those things are creepy. 

You feel a white hot anger beginning to rise your stomach except.. it quickly begins to fade. Because, the better part of you takes this for what it is. It's a prank. That bastard just pulled a prank on you in your own dorm.

Oh hell no. 

It is on like Donkey Kong. 

 

By the end of the night, you and Dirk have exhausted out all pranking resources that are currently available to you. You don't know when it was during the brawl for prankster dominance that you actually started having fun. Maybe it was after you dropped an ice cube down the back of his shirt, or when he put a balloon full of air on your seat when you went to sit down. 

You still have no fucking clue where he got the balloon from. 

But you do find yourself laughing, and you think maybe there's a smile on your face, because when you look at him he's regarding you with an expression you think is amusement. You think that, maybe, you're starting to pry your fingers under the edges of this Strider's mask. 

The fun can't go on forever, though. By the end of two more movies neither of you can find it within yourselves to get off of the couch again. You sit and middle with the remote, still not quite comfortable talking with Dirk. 

“Wanna order a pizza?” 

You glance up at him. 

“Hell yeah I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> sighs at characterization


End file.
